


Captured

by josephina_x



Series: Indistinguishable from Science [1]
Category: Smallville
Genre: And Nobody Likes Being Told What To Do, Gen, Imprisonment, Magic, Science, Somebody Is Wrong, Somebody's In Trouble, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark stopped Lex from using the Orb on him. The easy way. To say that Lex is pissed off by this turn of events, on the heels of more than a few unhappy small... shall we say, "revelations", would be a <i>bit</i> of an understatement...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Captured  
> Author: [josephina_x](http://josephina-x.livejournal.com)  
> Fandom: Smallville  
> Pairing: Clark, Lex  
> Rating: PG-13 (R, if you worry about swearing)  
> Spoilers: an AU that diverges during the season 7 finale; most everything before that is the same, excepting the one "factoid" that I've changed  
> Word count: 2300+  
> Summary: Clark stopped Lex from using the Orb on him. The easy way. To say that Lex is pissed off by this turn of events, on the heels of more than a few unhappy small... shall we say, "revelations", would be a _bit_ of an understatement...  
>  Warnings: Un-beta'd.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.  
> Comments: Yes, please! :)  
> Author's Note: First in the series, _Indistinguishable from Science_. Plays with an old trope. (Couldn't help myself; the idea's just come up a couple times recently in a roundabout way. I've been reading sci-fi/fantasy short story anthologies lately; my brain pops out weird things when I do that.)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex grumbled to himself as he sat in the dirt and absently tugged at the shackles of metal at his wrists. They were connected to thick, heavy chains, the likes of which one might normally see being used to connect the back of a pickup truck to a hauled load ...like an ancient tree trunk that needed uprooting.

Personally, Lex thought it was a bit overkill -- but then, the entire situation was, really. Wasn't it?

The forged metal links made his wrists look both frail and fragile by comparison. The ends of the chains had been captured firmly in place by the expedient method of having been stuck through by a long U-spike at several of the ringlets; one chain was held down by each end of the spike. The spike itself had been slammed down into the hard-packed dirt, the top of the 'U' almost level with it.

No amount of digging or tugging was going to get him loose.

No set of lockpicks would, either. Lex might've gotten himself some very good lessons in lock-picking and general escape techniques, the sort of which would put many of the best magicians to shame, and he was very proud of his skills, but...

...it did him no good when there wasn't a lock to pick.

He skimmed his fingers over the mass of bent, curved metal that collared his wrists, which had been squeezed shut by force.

He could feel, if not see, the imprints Clark's fingers had made in the thick, hard metal.

He wasn't getting these shackles off by himself.

The dim lightbulb swinging from the wooden-slat ceiling of the storm cellar threw shifting shadows and created a dreary ambiance that was far more than he could have ever hoped for. It fit his foul mood perfectly.

He slowly pulled his knees up to his chest. His arms slid over to encircle them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It had all gone wrong in the Fortress, really.

Lex had finally found the rest of the Kryptonian Orb in the mansion. Kara has warned him about Kal-El, but had been unable to approach him while he'd held it. He'd thought that a measure of protection, built-in, one which he could exploit.

He'd found that spot in the northern tundra that no-one could navigate -- a veritable Bermuda's Triangle of traveler's misfortune, over an icy wasteland. He'd flown in as close as he could manage, and used a snowmobile to get as close as he could.

When the engine had died, he'd walked the rest of the way.

He'd found it. A castle -- a veritable fortress -- of ice and foreign, alien crystal that never should have been there. Not on his Earth.

He'd gone inside. He'd marveled at the deadly beauty of it. He'd pulled out the Orb.

And then Clark had arrived.

He'd been surprised. Both of them had.

Clark had tried to talk him out of it. Lex had just about laughed in his face, because that? _That_ wasn't happening.

Clark had begged him not to do it. _Please don't._

Lex had told him off and turned away.

Clark had said not to do it. _Lex, don't._

Lex had sneered to himself at the lack of politeness, however ineffectual, and walked towards what looked like a center console. A good place to put it.

Clark had said. _Don't._ and that had had Lex pause momentarily. Clark hadn't sounded like he was pleading with him anymore.

Lex had told him it was for his own good, which wasn't even a lie, and reached forward.

Clark had said. _So is this._

And then he had said...

_Lex, **drop it**._

And Lex had.

His right hand had burned with cold, and his fingers had twitched and let go.

Just like he'd been **ordered** to do.

Lex had stood there for a long moment, very, very still.

Lex had slowly brought up his hands.

He'd stared at them.

He'd turned to Clark.

Clark had been looking at him, his face unreadable.

He'd held his left fist palm-up, and uncurled his fingers.

Holding a small crystal of his own.

He'd said.

_Lex, pick up the Orb and step away from the console._

Lex did so.

He'd said.

_Lex, put it away so it won't hurt me._

Lex had pulled out the lead-lined pull-string bag he'd carried it in from his pocket, and put the Orb back in it. He'd pulled the string taut.

Clark was in front of him in the blink of an eye, and took the bag from him.

Lex glanced at the crystal Clark was holding, dull-white and almost opaque. It looked a little like the symbol on Alexander's breastplate, that he still remembered having shown Clark once in a museum gala opening, a long time ago.

Clark's fingers had closed back around it, and the frigid burning sensation in his hand had abated, somewhat.

Except for what he'd already been feeling before, from the ambient cold.

Lex's fingers itched.

He'd asked, dully. _What is that?_

Clark had said. _It's what I used to pull Zod out of you._

 _...That's not all it's for._ Lex had said quietly, staring at Clark's fist.

 _No._ Clark had said, as he'd lowered his hand. _It isn't._

Lex had clenched his jaw, and slowly looked up at Clark, looked him in the eye.

He had said. _You could have used that on me before._

Clark had looked equal parts tired and irritated. His eyes had narrowed as he looked down at him.

He'd said. _I shouldn't have had to._

That, above all else, had pissed Lex off the most. He'd been walking around with a threat like that over his head for more than a year now, and he'd had _no idea_.

 _You had no right!_ he informed Clark coldly, clenching his fists.

 _You were going to do the same thing to me!_ Clark had said, more annoyed and exasperated than he had any right to be.

_You're an alien menace!_

_Yeah, well, so are you!_ He was told right back, as Clark shoved the bagged Orb into his coat pocket.

Lex was taken aback. _I am not!_

 _You're not Kryptonian. And you were gonna use the Orb on me._ Clark told him with flawed logic, in a tone that indicated he thought it an impeccable, unbreachable argument instead.

 _It's my planet._ Lex had told him, crossing his arms. Then he'd glared at Clark's left fist again for good measure. _What is it with you people and trying to control me, anyway?_ He'd asked angrily, more of a rhetorical question than anything.

...or, at least, he'd thought it was. Until Clark had said, as he'd tucked the crystal safely away. _Zod's a lunatic, and he didn't want me to have you._

Lex had stared at him.

And then he'd gotten a horrible, paranoid suspicion.

 _What the hell is that supposed to mean._ He'd asked, shooting Clark a narrowed glare.

The wind had suddenly picked up, and Clark had looked around sourly and said. _I'm not talking about this with you here._

And then Clark had grabbed him by the wrist in a very firm hold and dragged him off towards the opening at the front of the Fortress.

Lex had cursed and tugged and clawed at Clark's hand around his wrist, all to no avail, as Clark didn't let go.

The crystalline floor, lightly frosted with powdered snow, was too slick for him to brace himself against, either.

Clark had literally dragged him, feet sliding, across the surface, and up to the other console.

The one with the thin slot in it, which the Orb hadn't reacted to at all on his way in.

Then Clark had pulled out that alien Key that Lex had found.

But before Lex had been able to protest, he'd pulled Lex up to his side, and shoved the Key down into the slot.

There was a flash of light, and then they were in a much warmer stone chamber.

Lex, startled at the time, had reared back and tried to get a good look at things, while Clark had pulled the Key back out again, shoved it back in a pocket, and begun dragging Lex off again, to god-knew-where.

Then a hole had opened out of nowhere in the stone wall, and after Clark had dragged Lex through it, he'd finally realized where they were.

 _You bastard! I **knew** there was a chamber back there! I **knew** it!_ Lex had yelled in bloody, angry vindication, as Clark had continued pulling him through the center of the Kawatche Caves, and out the front.

Clark had ignored him.

When they hit the grass outside, Lex was finally able to dig in his heels, with marginally more success -- he almost toppled over his feet.

Clark just dragged him upright by the hold he had on Lex's arm.

Dangling by one wrist in midair, Lex had tried to kick at him, which, for the record, was not all that pleasant.

Having all one's weight yanked around through one's shoulder, that is, and not just the almost breaking his toes on Clark's shin part.

Clark's eyes had narrowed dangerously at that point.

 _Look. You can either behave and walk like a person, or I can carry you._ Clark had said.

Well, Lex hadn't been about to "behave," thank you very much. Not for Clark, or anyone else.

So Clark had slung him over a shoulder like a sack of bloody grain, and strode off.

It had been fucking embarrassing.

Not least of which because Clark had decided to walk at a normal human speed, and had taken a path through the Kawatche territory, and one of the natives had seen them and gotten curious.

He'd approached them with respect -- well, Clark, anyway, he'd given Lex a look that promised bloody murder in his future -- and asked Clark if he needed any help with anything.

Clark had, as far as Lex had been able to tell, told the man off in fluent Kawatche.

Lex was pissed off that he'd told him off in native Kawatche, because Lex didn't speak the language fluently, and the names 'Naman' and 'Segeth' featured rather prominently in the ensuing discussion that he couldn't understand. Multiple times.

After the Kawatche man had bowed and moved off, looking none-too-pleased, in the way of someone given an order they didn't like but still following it, Lex had tried, yet again, to unsuccessfully crane his head around to get a good look at Clark's face.

Unfortunately Clark hadn't let go of his wrist at any point yet, which meant that as he'd dangled over Clark's back from his left shoulder, Clark's right arm had been wrapped up over the back of his waist. This kept Lex's right wrist trapped up against his left side, and forced his right arm to remain pulled down across his chest. Given all this, in retrospect trying to squirm his way into a better viewing position had probably been a losing proposition from the start.

Not the least of which was because he'd only had one arm free, and been completely unable to straighten up with the way Clark's forearm had been like a steel bar across his lower back, holding him down.

He'd still squirmed around and tried to make a nuisance of himself anyway, just to spite him. He was pissed off, he'd already been starting to get a headache from the blood rushing to his head, and what the hell would Clark have done about it, anyway? Carried him over his _other_ shoulder?

Finally, he'd taken a break from his squirming and kicking about and decided he'd rather know what the hell Clark had been saying in Kawatche that he hadn't wanted Lex to understand upon overhearing.

 _What the hell was that about._ Lex had demanded.

 _I was explaining which Segeth you were._ Clark had said.

 _What?_ Lex had said, shocked. He'd lost his hold for a moment, and nearly knocked his breath out of himself in the process.

Clark had just sighed in irritation. _It's like the four of five whatever Gueneviere's in Arthurian legend that everybody got mixed up about, and some people thought there was only one._ He'd been told. _There were however-many Gueneviere's, and two Segeth's._

Lex had frowned furiously at this.

Eventually he'd said. _You didn't kill Lionel, I did. That would make me Naman._

Clark had let out an exasperated noise. _No, that makes you Segeth, and Lionel Segeth, and me Naman._

 _Naman kills Segeth._ Lex had said, because everybody who knew the cave legends knew that.

 _Except you're my Segeth, and that means I killed him, if you did._ He had been informed dryly, and Clark hadn't sounded pleased.

 _I have my own agency!_ Lex had protested, offended in the extreme. _You don't get to take responsibility for my actions!_

 _Yes, I do._ Clark had said angrily, sounding strained, and Lex had just had to push it.

 _No, you don't! You've got **nothing** to do with me!_ Which had been almost a point of pride, those last few years -- disentangling his life and his-self from one Clark Kent.

_Yes, I do. You're mine!_

_Like **hell** I'm yours! I'm **not** your **anything!**_ Lex had hissed back ferally.

 _You're my familiar!_ Clark had shouted out, thunderously mad.

 _..._ Lex had felt his expression go blank. **What.**

Clark had stopped in place. Maybe because he'd needed to. He'd been breathing heavily, maybe trying to calm down, if the tightening of the hold he'd had on Lex had been any indication.

 _I'm your **what**._ Lex had repeated.

 _It's about as close to English as it translates._ Clark had told him, after a long minute-and-a-half of silence.

 _Don't I get a say in this?_ Lex had bitten out nastily.

 _No._ Clark had told him through gritted teeth.

In anyone's retrospect -- as far as Lex was concerned -- Clark ought to have known better. His response had been like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Lex had scented blood in the water, and he'd damn well wanted to know why Clark thought a human could be an familiar to _him_ , when the only 'familiar's _he'd_ ever heard of were intelligent _animals_ who belonged to _witches_ , for chrissake, like _that_ was even a real thing. _Isobel_ sure as hell hadn't had a familiar, and Clark was a defective _alien overlord_ -in-training. He sure as hell wasn't a magical _anything_ , let alone a freaking _space wizard_.

And that was how Lex had ended up thoroughly pissed off, had pissed off Clark in the process, and had ended up locked up in the storm cellar on Clark's farm, like some unruly beast.

Goddamn Kryptonians. Crazy as fuck, the lot of them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> [...Yeah, that trope.](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Familiar) And yes, I have read a little of [this](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/LightNovel/TheFamiliarOfZero?from=Main.ZeroNoTsukaima), but not the whole thing. (No, I'm not trying to do a fusion or anything. Silly readers. :-P )
> 
> Also, I understand that the Smallville Wikia spells it 'Sageeth' on their main page on the subject, and uses that spelling in its pages way more than the 'Segeth' spelling that I use. To this, I say :-P
> 
> Finally, if anyone has read anything else like this, FFS please send me links! *makes grabby hands* *wants to read*


End file.
